


My Gift To You

by superwholockatthechemicalboy



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Desire, F/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Burn, Violence, hotchniss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-01-05 15:09:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18368546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superwholockatthechemicalboy/pseuds/superwholockatthechemicalboy
Summary: This is just a love story. Emily Prentiss falls for her Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner. What could go wrong?





	1. Why Me?

\--- IN A DARK ROOM ---

The man wiped his bloodied hands on his apron and looked over his handiwork. Before him lay a man, lying on an old workbench and screaming in pain. He had crafted a magnificent maze of red lines on the man's chest, in a message he knew couldn't be ignored.

"Shhhh, not long now..." he hushed the subject spread out before him.

This of course only led the victim on the table to scream more. Red clouded the man's vision as he watched the man squirm beneath him. God, why wouldn't he just be quiet!

"SHUT UP!" he screamed, driving his surgical knife between the eyes of the screaming man on the table. He finally stopped screaming and his consciousness faded away.

The man got up and walked over to his computer. Stroking the image of the woman on the screen, he whispered a single word.

"Soon."

\--- EMILY'S APARTMENT ---

Her routine was regular. Her breakfast consisted of a single cup of black coffee with Splenda. She grabbed a tin of pet food and poured it into Sergio's bowl, who lapped at it eagerly. He let out a low growl of contentment as she stroked his silky black coat. Moving into her bedroom, she shrugged off her pyjamas and pulled on a long black pair of work trousers. Combined with a white blouse and matte black belt, she pulled on her black blazer and moved to the bathroom. She brushed her sleek black locks of hair down and applied a light coat of lipstick and eye makeup. As a finishing touch, she holstered her gun at her hip and slipped her FBI badge into her back pocket. ' _Emily Prentiss, Supervisory Special Agent - Behavioural Analysis Unit, Quantico VA_ ' Grabbing her keys off the kitchen bench, she ran out the door to drive to her work.

\--- FBI HEADQUARTERS, QUANTICO VIRGINIA ---

The rest of the team had already arrived and were waiting in the briefing room by the time she arrived. By the looks on their faces, the case wasn't a pretty one. 

"Four men dead over the past week in Massachusetts, two Caucasian, one African-American and one Hispanic, each with letters carved into their torso. Two have been confirmed by coroners to have died from loss of blood, but the other two appear to have died from a single stab would between the eyes," announced Garcia, trembling slightly.

"What letters have appeared so far?" asked Reid.

"E, L, S and I" replied Garcia, "and in that order."

"Elsi," said Rossi, "He could be trying to spell the name of a scorned lover, Elsie or Elsinore perhaps."

Hotch quickly said, "Elsinore is still four more letters away. Let's hope we don't find four more bodies. Wheels up in 30."

The team scrambled to find their materials. Emily knew something felt off, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. She walked onto the tarmac and Hotch waved her over to him. She hurried over and boarded the plane. 

\--- BAU AIRCRAFT ---

"So what do we know about the unsub so far?" asked Hotch.

"Stabbing is a symbol of rage, but the letters written in their chests indicate caution and care," said Morgan.

"There are no ligature marks either," said Reid, "So he must be subduing these victims somehow. We should ask for tox screenings from the labs."

"Four men were killed..." said JJ, "Are we sure it's not a female unsub?"

"The acts are too violent to be female. Female unsubs tend to use poison or arson, but rarely stabbing."

"The first victim, Jeremy Wallace, was a rich, affluent white lawyer in his mid 30s, the second victim, Diego Cruz, was a 19 year old garbage collector, the third victim, Laurence Miller was a 70 year old retiree, and Troy Harris was a black 28 year old high-school teacher. The unsub crosses age, geographic and occupation lines. The only thing linking these men is their gender and the fact that they're all dead with a letter etched into their chests," mused Rossi. 

A loud beeping sound came from the laptop sitting on the table between the six BAU members. 

"Sorry to rain on your metaphorical parade folks, but two new bodies have been discovered," chimed Garcia, "They've got the letters N and E."

"Elsine. Garcia, check your databases for anyone with the name Elsine in the Massachusetts area," ordered Hotch.

"Gotcha. TTYL."

Like that, Garcia was gone. Emily watched the team ponder this new information. Something was really irking her about this case, although it could be due to the fact that she had lived in Massachusetts for a few years as a child. She couldn't imagine the friendly state where she made some of her closest friends turning into the hunting ground for some evil unsub on a killing spree. Shaking the thought from her mind, she turned her attention back to the case."

"Here's the plan when we land," said Hotch, "Reid and I will go straight to the FBI Field Office and set up our materials, as well as get chatting to some of the local PD. JJ and Morgan, you guys speak to the families of the victims and see if they had any enemies. Prentiss and Rossi, go check with the coroner's office and see if they have any leads. We can get this guy before he kills anyone else."

The rest of the BAU returned to their seats and Emily was left side by side with Hotch. Anticipating the usual ride in silence, she was surprised when he turned to her and asked what she thought of the case. 

"There's something not quite right," she said, searching his face with her eyes as if somehow he could give her the answer.

Hotch nodded in agreement. He rested his hand on hers for a second in comfort.

"We'll catch this guy Emily. We always do."

Emily nodded and smiled slightly to herself. Hotch's words had calmed her down slightly. She thought quietly to herself, how he always knew what to say in a situation. She wanted nothing more than to get this case solved and she was glad that Hotch was in charge to lead them. Closing her eyes, she let herself drift off to sleep for the rest of the plane trip.


	2. A Sneaking Suspicion

\--- IN A DARK ROOM ---

The man stroked the photograph, barely visible in the poor lighting. He had to work by natural light, ever since the electricity companies shut the power off. He devoted his attention to the photo. The woman in the picture looked so happy, so carefree. Her long curls cascaded over her shoulders and her white teeth dominated her infectious smile. She had her arm around him and they both smiled triumphantly, wearing matching medallions around their necks. 

Lost in reverie, a loud bang from behind him snapped him rudely out of his daydream. The man had gained consciousness a lot quicker than expected and was panicking. Without thinking twice, vision blurred with red hot anger, he grabbed the long handled knife off the table beside him and drove it into the man's skull. The man collapsed to the ground and he had to drag him back over to the table. 

Muttering angrily under his breath, he returned to the photograph, whispering a single word as he touched the image once more.

"Emily..."

\--- CORONER'S OFFICE ---

The coroner was more than pleased to see Emily Prentiss and David Rossi walk into his office. He was chatting calmly to a detective who was standing nearby. Emily recognised the detective immediately, an old friend of hers from school who she'd gone into law enforcement with. After a brief catch-up, he left to respond to a call and the coroner led them to where the bodies were.

He walked over to the nearest table and pulled back the sheet. Dead bodies are all similar in the way that they disturb the viewer; no matter how many you've seen, each new one is like a slap to the face. In this case however, Emily's feeling of dread lingered past the initial shock. Two more bodies had turned up, which the coroner presumed to be a little older, with the letters P and S. 

"Nothing unusual about these kills, except the letters on their chests which were done ante-mortem, or before the death," remarked the coroner, "The cuts are rough and the stab between the eyes is deep. Anyone with a fishing knife or even a sharp kitchen knife could have done this."

"Oh that narrows it down," said Rossi sarcastically.

"What do we know about how the unsub treats his victims?" asked Emily.

"He keeps them for two days. A low level sedative, Midazolam, was found in their systems. I'd say he injects them with this, and then takes them to a secondary location. My guess is they stay sedated enough for him to carve the letters, and when the drug starts to wear off, he kills them."

"Thanks, if you get any more leads please let us know." said Emily.

As she and Rossi walked out of the office she shook her head. Something was really weird about this case and she just couldn't put her finger on it. She felt like a child reaching for a chocolate bar that was just out of her reach. She kicked the ground in frustration and Rossi looked at her quizzically. She apologised and looked at the ground. Who would have thought that a simple string of murders was causing her to become unstuck?

\--- FBI FIELD OFFICE, MASSACHUSETTS ---

The BAU reunited at the Field Office. They had been given a small interview room for all their materials. Reid had drawn out a map on the board and pinpointed the locations of the disappearances and the dump sites. It was seemingly random, yet indicated a specific comfort zone that the killer was centralised in. 

Reid announced to the team, 'He grabs the men from outside public places, their places of employment or their homes. There's no foreseeable rhyme or reason here why he chooses these men. The only thing connecting them seem to be their gender. It's like he's slowly reducing the male population, one person at a time. The sooner we can work out what he's trying to spell, the better..."

"Not to alarm you" chimed in Garcia over the loudspeaker, "But there are two more bodies that police have found. Letters M and Y. The unsub is speeding up his kill rate. Maybe he's feeling threatened. Unfortunately, he's also getting more violent. The cuts are messier and one of the men seems to have his skull smashed in. I'm sending the gruesome pictures to your tablets now. Please catch this guy, I can't stand seeing any more of these pictures."

"The unsub was injecting them with Midazolam to sedate them. Is that an easy drug to get a hold of?" asked Rossi.

"Midazolam is an anaesthetic commonly used in surgery to induce sleep and decrease anxiety of a patient. It can also be used for people with epilepsy to treat seizures." said Reid. 

"Garcia, make a list of all hospitals, vets or doctors where a person could get a hold of Midazolam. Also could you consolidate a list of the people in the Massachusetts area who have epilepsy or similar seizure disorders." said Hotch.

"Will do. God speed my angels," she replied, ending the call.

Reid had written the letters out on the evidence board:

E L S I N E P S M Y

The team gathered around to try and put them together. There were thousands of words that contained these letters in any order. Reid was listing off anagrams, but none made any sense to carve into a person. That was when a cold shiver went down Emily's spine. Grabbing a whiteboard marker, she put the letters into a new order, one with an unmistakeable pattern.

E M I L Y   P _ E N _ _ S S

"I know it's unlikely that I'm being targeted somehow, but what are the odds right?" she said, trying to pass it off as a joke and shake off the cold terror that had formed in her stomach.

"That's a risk we can't let you take. Prentiss, you're off the case. We'll put you into protective custody as soon as we can." said Hotch.

"Hotch, come on. I can look after myself. I want to help solve this case."

Hotch lowered his voice, "Emily. You're in danger. There's no way I could justify keeping you here while you're a possible target. Imagine what would happen if he came after you next. I wouldn't be able to live with myself knowing I had made the choice to put you in harm's way. You're going into protective custody and there's nothing you can do to change my mind."

She nodded meekly. Hotch dialed the number for the local police and asked to get her into a safe house and two young officers arrived within minutes to transport her. She took one last glimpse at the team before hopping into the police car. They waved at her, trying to look cheerful but silently they were all very worried. 

\--- AT THE SAFE HOUSE ---

The two young officers dropped Emily off at the house, where she would be able to stay for the next few days. They informed her that at any time there would be two officers present outside, and that a detective would be on his way shortly. With this promise of protection, Emily walked to the bedroom. Old habits die hard, and as a measure of precaution, she placed her gun under her pillow, double checked the locks on the windows and put a chair near the door, in case she had to hold it shut. Allowing herself to breathe freely, she took off her belt and fell back onto the bed, drifting into an uneasy sleep.


	3. Wish You Were Here

\--- IN A DARK ROOM ---

As he washed his hands in the tiny metal basin, his reflection caught him in the grimy mirror. His face was tired. He rubbed his eyes and turned back to look at his companion. He was running low on Midazolam - he only had enough to sedate two more people and he knew he couldn't risk stealing any more with the increased police presence. 

The body on the table moaned loudly in pain. He returned his attention to his victim, who was just coming to. He looked down at the deep cuts on his torso and began to scream. 

"Scream! Scream all you want!" he yelled gleefully, "Ain't no one gonna hear you."

This only caused the guy on the table to scream louder. Eventually, he grew tired of the screaming and suddenly, the rage was too strong. The knife was in his hand before he knew it, and suddenly the blade was between the man's eyes. He pulled it out and left it on the bench. His message was nearly complete. Only one more to go. 

\--- AT THE SAFE HOUSE ---

Emily wandered through the rooms of the house. Within an hour she had noted three different possible exits and four potential entry points that the unsub could enter without alerting the officers outside. She was on edge, and it was driving her crazy. 

Suddenly, she heard footsteps on the path outside. Drawing her gun, she stood next to the front door. She watched it open and moved quickly, pressing the end of her weapon to the assailant's neck, forcing him up against the wall. 

"Emily, it's me," panted the man quickly, "It's me, Hotch."

Embarrassed, she lowered her weapon. 

"Sorry sir, I'm so so sorry."

"It's alright, I'd be nervous too," he said calmly, "How are you holding up?"

Shyly, she averted her eyes. 

"I'm fine, just getting a little stir-crazy. I've been racking my brains all morning and I can't think of anyone I know in this town that would want to do this. I don't have any scorned ex-boyfriends or anything of the sort. Maybe the unsub isn't even after me, just someone with similar letters in their name."

"I don't think so," said Hotch, "We've got more bodies now, total of twelve. Each one with letters from your name, save only the T. You're not going anywhere yet I'm afraid." 

"Why are you here then?"

"I don't really know. I thought I'd check up on you and see how you're going."

"I appreciate the gesture, but I'm fine. The team needs you more than I do."

Hotch looked her in the eye. She gave a small smile, but there was a layer of worry behind her eyes that you didn't need to be a profiler to notice. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. 

"We'll catch this guy Emily."

"I know," she said quietly.

Hotch's words and low voice sent a light, yet pleasant shiver down her spine. She escorted him to the front door where he left her and every bone in her body wanted her to call out to ask him to stay with her. 

\--- FBI FIELD OFFICE, MASSACHUSETTS ---

Spencer Reid paced up and down in front of a board where every dump and abduction site had been pinpointed on a map. 

"The unsub's comfort zone is very clearly within a twenty mile radius of the city center. This is most likely someone who has grown up here, due to an extensive knowledge of the local area, which is evident through the fact that he has been able to avoid detection and security cameras thus far. 

Morgan picked up a picture of the third victim off the table in the center of the room. 

"What I don't get is the range of victimology. There's no discernible pattern with the age, race or type of victim he's killing."

"That's because the victim doesn't matter. Only the message. And the message is Emily's name." said Rossi, "But I think these murders are more than that. Look at the stabs between the eyes. They're efficient. There's no sadistic pleasure there. But the markings on their torso, they're precise, careful. This isn't a threat to Agent Prentiss. It's a love letter."

"Ok so we know the murders aren't this unsub's main goal, but if he sedates them to carve the letters into them, then why doesn't he let them go once he's done?" asked Morgan.

"Maybe he can't. What if it started as a plan to simply write this sadistic love letter and evolved when he felt an urge to kill? A purely need-driven murder with no overkill or torture." added Reid. 

"Well it also leaves no witnesses." said Hotch.

"Hold on a second." said Morgan, "Police patrols have increased tremendously since bodies started showing up. Yet this unsub is still able to capture and dump bodies entirely unnoticed. What's the bet that this guy is a member of law enforcement?"

Reid looked around swiftly, "Emily started her law enforcement training here in Massachusetts. Maybe it's someone she'll know."

"I think we're ready to give a profile then." announced Rossi.

"Not so fast."

Agent Hotchner picked up his coat and pulled out his phone. The team looked at him questioningly. 

"Emily's at the safe house along with two officers and a local detective. Rossi and Morgan, get over there as fast as you can. I might have left her alone with the unsub."


End file.
